Only Those Fit For Survival
by Ashkiis
Summary: Instead of saving Jill, Chris and Sheva are knocked unconscious and taken captive. Chris Redfield/Albert Wesker (Warning - Non/con)


**Notes:**

I roleplayed years ago, but I've never written fanfiction though I've loved reading it for years. So, here is my very first fanfiction! I'm pretty nervous about it for several reasons. I worry the characters are not in character, that my dialogue is awful, and that it plain isn't written well. As for the smut, I don't know how that went either. Probably not well! Despite that, I'm going to see how it goes.

Reviews and helpful criticism are welcome! Thanks for reading! (:

XXX

Chris collided against the metal door for the hundredth time, refusing to give up even though the barrier gave no indication of budging. He declined to address the rising panic he felt and instead charged at the door again, focusing his energy on the slim chance of escape instead of falling prey to despair. After a few more moments of slamming his entire weight against the obstacle, Chris heard a groan from the floor. Abandoning the door for the moment, he moved towards the moaning figure on the floor. Chris crouched down in front of her. "Hey," he muttered softly, reaching out to give his companion a hand.

Sheva blinked slowly and rubbed her eyes, trying to ignore the pounding in her head. She accepted Chris' outstretched hand, and with his assistance leaned against the wall behind her. "Where are we?" she questioned, looking around as she asked. The room was small and dim, a single bulb illuminating the small space. Though the entire room looked decrepit, the door was not, however. Reinforced steel barred their way to freedom.

Her companion shrugged in response and he scowled, looking back at the unaffected door. Sheva reached up and felt around the back of her head, finding a large bump. So that was why she had such a headache! Moving her hand down to assess the rest of her, she found her pockets to be empty and every one of her weapons missing. Even the knife she hid in her boot for times like this was gone. Closing her eyes and leaning her head back carefully, Sheva let out a soft sigh. "What do you remember last?" she finally asked when Chris didn't say anything further.

With a grunt, Chris sat down next to Sheva, mirroring her posture as he too leaned against the wall. "We were fighting Jill… and Wesker," he muttered, his voice tight with barely restrained anger. Hatred for his former captain bubbled in his chest and Chris took a moment to take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He needed to keep a cool head in order to get out of this predicament. Giving in to his anger would do neither him nor Sheva any good. And he wasn't going to lose another partner. Not this time.

"That's right," she murmured, opening her eyes to look at Chris. "Jill hit me from behind and I don't remember anything after that." She nodded as she recalled the intense battle and the equally intense emotional toll the reunion must have had on Chris. Sheva reached her hand out and gently patted Chris' shoulder, hoping he would understand that she was there for him if he wanted to talk. It must have been so hard to not only see Jill in the flesh, but then have to fight with her. Sheva could tell that Chris had physically restrained himself from doing Jill any real harm during their duel, while she had come at him full force, her moves intending to do damage. Granted, it wasn't truly Jill that was fighting them. But the fact was it was Jill's body and it must have hurt Chris' psyche far more than any kicks or punches he had received in the melee.

"After you went down, she turned on me, and I couldn't outrun both her and Wesker," Chris told her. He glanced at the hand on his shoulder but did not remove it, much to Sheva's delight. "I don't understand why we aren't dead," Chris admitted, looking his partner straight in the eye. "Wesker has been trying to kill me for years. He had the perfect opportunity."

Biting her lip as she contemplated the situation, Sheva gently squeezed Chris' shoulder before removing her hand. If what Chris said was true, it didn't make any sense. She glanced at the door as if the answer to her question would bust in. But the door remained closed and their cell remained eerily quiet. Letting her growing fear and trepidation guide her thoughts, Sheva thought about the man that had attacked them just a few short hours ago. Wesker had moved with graceful ferocity, and if their lives hadn't been at stake Sheva would have been fully impressed with his skill. Despite his superior strength and agility from whatever virus ran through his veins, Sheva knew that Wesker had had some sort of tactical training before all of this. And Chris had known him personally before all of this Uroboros nonsense. From what she had picked up on, the grudge between the two men ran deep. "I hate to say it, but maybe a quick death isn't what he has in store for us," she muttered, still staring at the door.

Chris followed her gaze towards the door but quickly looked back at her, a frown pulling down the corners of his mouth. Sheva was probably right. Wesker wouldn't just leave them to rot in this cell. He would have some sort of nefarious plan. "We need to be ready for when he shows up then."

...

There was no way to tell time in the windowless room, but Chris would guess that it had been a full day since he had woken on the cell floor. Besides conversation with Sheva, the cell had been silent. There were no sounds from outside the door that penetrated through. Not even the single lightbulb flickered or buzzed like it did in so many cliché movies. Instead, the two companions sat in silence, except for when they felt the need to talk. That too had steadily petered off.

Chris was unwilling to discuss Jill, and the few attempts Sheva had made to initiate a heart to heart had been met with either silence or a change of subject. Small talk seemed to be out of the question as well, for it broke Chris' concentration. He sat facing the door, poised to rise at a moment's notice. His eyes were trained on the handle, waiting for any sort of movement. Sheva had eventually given up and fallen into silence, choosing instead to either watch the door for movement as well, or to study her companion, looking for any signs of fatigue or emotional breakdown.

A few more hours passed this way, the two occupants as silent as the rest of the room. Finally, Sheva began to grow restless and stood to pace, but a quick glare from Chris had her sitting back down. No distractions, right. So instead she fiddled with her necklace, trying to do something that wasn't a complete lack of movement. It wasn't long before she began to feel antsy again, and frustration at the situation and Chris' cool composure in the face of their certain demise caused her to spit out, "Maybe he isn't coming."

"That doesn't mean we can't be prepared."

His voice was cool, almost to the point of dripping with disdain. He hadn't even turned to look at her, his eyes still trained on their only escape route. Sheva felt anger curl in her breast and she rose to her feet, the fiery emotion fueling her now. "Chris, we can't beat him. We ran from him before. You think we can do something in this tiny cell?"

Chris rose from his crouch and finally turned to look at her, his own eyes brimming with uncontrolled rage. "What kind of attitude is that? You're giving up already?" He knew that his partner was scared and that her anger wasn't entirely directed at him, and he too wasn't completely angry at her. Easy to process in his mind, but uneasy not to get caught up in an argument. To take out his frustration on someone that would later forgive him was simpler than staring at a door for hours. Letting his anger at the entire situation fill him, Chris cried, "What would your parents say?" He had never thought himself cruel, so his comment surprised him, and his mouth hung open in shock after his outburst.

Sheva's eyes widened in surprise and her nostrils flared with indignation. "How dare you!" she cried, lunging forward. She pummeled her fists against Chris' chest, but her hits weren't meant to hurt, no matter how much his comment had stung. The fight was out of her in a few moments, and instead she leaned against her fellow prisoner, breathing in deeply, his scent comforting her. She allowed herself to get comfort from Chris for a moment, seeking a physical connection to soothe her nerves. Contentment filled her when Chris wrapped his muscular arms around her and murmured apologies into the top of her head. For a moment, Sheva felt at peace and that things would be fine.

"How touching."

A mocking voice broke the two BSAA agents quickly apart, and both were shocked to see that Wesker had made his way into their cell in a matter of seconds, unnoticed by both of them. Before anything else could be said, Chris lunged at the man, a snarl of hatred on his lips. Wesker smirked at Chris' assault and began to fight with him, parrying the first punch with ease. The two men began brawling, though it was apparent Chris was taking far more hits than he was landing them. Realizing it may be their only chance to escape, Sheva rushed forward in an effort to help her partner. She kicked out at the back of Wesker's knee, hoping the force behind the blow would incapacitate their captor long enough for them to make it beyond the door. There was a connection, but her kick may as well have been a child trying to inflict damage. Smirking all the while, Wesker glanced back at her as she moved to grapple him. Faster than any mere mortal could possibly hope to move, Wesker slammed his elbow into Sheva's head, knocking her to the floor as he spun to face off against Chris once more.

Seeing his partner fall so quickly made despair begin to race through his mind, but Chris continued to advance on Wesker, hoping by some miracle they would win. Pain from Wesker's punches flared all along his body, but Chris refused to give up. A sudden kick to the ribs made the man grit his teeth in agony, but again he stood, defiance and hatred fueling his movements. Absently, Chris noted that Wesker still had his sunglasses on and his hair was still perfectly slicked back. The bastard. "Come on, old man. You can do better than that," he taunted, smirking at Wesker as he wiped at a blood trail that trickled from his nose. His former captain grinned in return, but it was no friendly thing. All teeth, practically a sneer at the edges, and Chris knew he was in trouble.

He couldn't hold out against Wesker's barrage. Determination not to give in to his enemy or show any weakness was all that fueled his movements now. He successfully dodged one of Wesker's sweeping kicks by throwing himself back, but the movement made him lose balance. Landing heavily on the floor from his wild escape, Chris rolled away from a follow-up stomp that would have surely crushed a few ribs if he had not moved in time. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Sheva rising, equal parts determination and desperation on her face. He knew that his partner had been right, however. There was no way they could compete against Wesker's enhanced abilities. Running was their best option, yet again. "The door, Sheva!" he shouted as he latched on to Wesker's ankle, hoping to distract the man long enough so that his female companion could escape.

She moved quickly, though he knew she must have loathed leaving him. Sprinting for the open door before Wesker could subdue Chris long enough to stop her himself, it appeared that she would be free in moments. Chris felt a laugh of triumph escaping him when she cleared the doorway and disappeared from sight. Gloating shining in his eyes, he looked up at Wesker and saw the man's self-satisfied smirk. Chris realized then that Wesker wasn't even making an effort to escape his weakened grip on his ankle. Instead, the black clothed man stood still, eyeing the door that Sheva had rushed through moments before. "Any moment now," he murmured to Chris, his smirk steadily growing.

With a growl, Chris rose to tackle Wesker, enraged by the other man's relaxed countenance. "I tire of this," Wesker told him as he easily latched on to his captive's throat, effectively stopping any further attacks. With just one hand the blond held the BSAA agent aloft, all the while keeping his eyes on the open door. Chris scrabbled weakly at the gloved hand, humiliation coursing through his body. No matter how hard he kicked out at Wesker, the grip around his throat would not budge. He began to see spots in his vision and he gasped frantically, doubling his efforts at prying the hand off.

Just as Chris was sure this was how his former captain planned to finish him off, he was dropped unceremoniously to the floor. He took great lungfulls of air, not resisting when he felt Wesker grab at his hands and pull them behind his back. He didn't register the click of the cuffs until it was too late. His hands were now useless to him. "Be a good boy now, Christopher," Wesker said, looking down at the fallen man. Chris opened his mouth to spit insults at the blond when a commotion was suddenly made right outside the door.

Turning his head from where he still lay panting on the floor, Chris witnessed Sheva being dragged by the hair by none other than Jill. Sheva was shouting at the woman, alternating between trying to reason with her or delivering threats. No matter what his companion said, Jill did not react. Instead, she moved with a single minded purpose towards Wesker, still dragging the struggling agent behind her. When Jill finally reached her master, she threw Sheva forward, causing her to pitifully tumble until she rested near Chris.

"Now that everyone's here," Wesker drawled, placing one boot on the brunette man's back as he leaned down to look at the pair. Chris wiggled and shifted, trying to dislodge the older man.

"Get off of me, you piece of shit!"

Wesker's hand darted out faster than what Chris' eyes could follow, clamping down on Sheva's already abused hair. He dragged her towards him, ignoring her gasps of pain. "Now Chris, is that any way to speak to your betters?" he asked, though his face was turned towards Sheva's.

Knowing he was walking on thin ice and refusing to let Sheva be hurt just because he couldn't control his mouth, Chris grit his teeth and spat out, "No…sir."

"Good boy."

The words damaged his pride, and despite himself Chris could feel his cheeks heating in rage and mortification. He averted his eyes to stare straight ahead at the rough floor, trying to ignore the weight of Wesker's foot on his back and the way his nemesis began to chuckle softly in delight.

"Ms. Alomar, BSAA agent, is it?" Chris heard Wesker ask above him. Though he was grateful that Wesker was no longer focused on him for the sake of his ego, worry began to bloom in his chest. He would rather take Wesker's insults all day than for Sheva to face off against him.

To her credit, Sheva answered without any tremor in her voice. "Yes. Albert Wesker, science experiment, correct?" In fact, her voice held a bit of derision to it, as if the man that could rip out her hair in one pull was a complete waste of her time. Chris felt his heart swell with pride as he turned his head to watch the exchange.

A moment of silence passed before Wesker's other hand moved with a blur. A sharp smack echoed in the small space and Chris' eyes widened with horror when he realized that the blond had just slapped his partner. Sheva let out a gasp of pain, trying to pull away to nurse the stinging wound. But Wesker's grip tightened in her hair and he slapped her again, causing Sheva to cry out from the force of his blow.

"Stop it!" Chris screamed, renewing his struggles to get out from under Wesker.

Another slap followed his exclamation, and this time Sheva's nose began to drip blood, so fierce was the hit. She still thrashed her body and strove to turn her head to escape the madman's grip, but just as Chris' struggles did no good, so too were her movements futile. More slaps rained down on Sheva's cheek before she was roughly shoved to the ground.

When Wesker finally removed his boot, Chris quickly rolled on to his back so that he could more fully survey the room despite the strain it put on his shoulders from his cuffed hands. He first glanced at the door that still hung open. Then he looked at Jill, still waiting impassively next to Wesker. And finally Chris looked at his companion who lay on the floor clutching her hand to her cheek. No tears stained her face, but Sheva certainly looked flustered and her eyes remained pointed to the ground. "Sheva…" he murmured, trying to get her attention and to assess the extent of her injuries.

"Ah ah ah," Wesker chided, shaking his gloved finger at him. "All eyes on me."

"Fuck you," Chris spat, his brown eyes glistening with hatred.

"All in good time, Chris."

Chris could only blink at that, unsure what his captor could possibly mean. He glanced briefly at Sheva again, but she too looked confused when she finally looked up to peek at him in return.

Not waiting for a response, Wesker continued to speak. "Chris, you and I have quite the sordid past." He began to pace as he spoke, arms clasped tightly behind his back, unconcerned with any effort his captives might make in attacking him. "Much as I hate to admit it, I find myself in quite the predicament. As a god, I should not be burdened with such…mortal emotion as I have with you."

Chris continued to stare at the blond man, not understanding where this speech was going. It wasn't often that Chris was baffled into silence, but now was one of those times. Was this seriously going to be the final thing he would hear before Wesker finally killed him? Some confession about the one remaining human feeling that he had?

"I loathe you, Chris. You've foiled my plans far too many times. You're a thorn in my side. A human, causing a god so much trouble." Wesker had stopped his pacing to turn and stare in the other man's direction. He slowly removed his sunglasses, his red eyes glinting fiercely despite the low light. Chris stared unflinchingly into the older man's eyes, wondering what in the world he was getting at. Wesker continued with, "I find your existence…insufferable."

There it was. He was going to die any moment now. Though Chris wouldn't admit it, fear began to freeze his blood and roaring began to fill his ears. He refused to look away from Wesker's intense gaze, however. Instead of letting his fright take over, he let a sneer contort his features as if he found the very idea of Wesker trying to end his life laughable.

Wesker was still speaking when Chris finally returned to reality and was able to focus once more. "-always there, with your sense of justice. Your mortality is what tries me most. So righteous even in your pathetic existence." Chris rolled his eyes at the blond's tirade, growing bored with the speech, though he knew the conclusion marked his own life's end. "And yet," Wesker ground out, obviously not as sure of himself now. Chris found his attention once more focused and sharp, his interest piqued. "My loathing is equaled only by my desire for you."

Time stopped. Chris felt the already small room grow tighter, pressing the four occupants closer together. He felt more trapped now than he did before. Eyes blown wide in shock, the brunette found himself staring openmouthed at his former captain. Had he heard correctly? There was no way Wesker had just said that. Sheva was also staring at Wesker, surprise clearly etched on her features.

"Your spirit fascinates me. Even your mortal form intrigues me." Wesker had resumed pacing, clearly agitated. Chris had never seen the other man nervous, and even now Wesker exuded confidence, but the BSAA agent could tell these statements did not come easy for him. And certainly it wasn't easy for Chris to process either. Was Wesker pulling a sick joke right before he pierced his chest with his fist?

"I want to kill you, Redfield. Yet I cannot."

Chris felt a breath he had been holding whoosh out in a swift gust. This was not real, it could not be. His brain wasn't wired well enough to fully process the situation.

"Not until I claim what I have desired for so long."

This time, his heart stopped. "Chris!" Sheva shouted in terror as Wesker took a step towards him. Chris felt himself squirming away, panic seizing control of his actions before his bravery could kick in. As Wesker reached towards him, he rolled to the side, avoiding contact with the gloved appendage. The older man growled in frustration and started to move towards Chris again before stopping midstride. Sheva had leaped forward and wrapped her arms around Wesker's leg, distracting him from his pursuit of Chris.

"Insolent bitch. How dare you touch me, you unworthy worm!" he hissed, once again grabbing the back of her head by the hair. Sheva gasped and clawed at Wesker's hand, releasing her hold on his leg. He raised his hand to strike the woman.

"Stop! Wesker, stop!" Chris shouted, struggling to sit up in his panic, his bravery back in full force once he saw Sheva being threatened.

The blond turned to regard Chris and moved the raised hand towards him. Chris couldn't fight the flinch that moved him further away from the outstretched hand, and Wesker's smirk was back. "If you continue to resist me, Christopher, there will be consequences." He returned his gaze to Sheva, staring for a few seconds before his fist connected with her stomach. Her breath rushed out and her body tried to curl in on itself, trying to escape further pain.

Despite Chris' renewed shouts, Wesker dragged Sheva's weakly struggling form further away so that Chris could see them more fully. The gloved hand that had just given her such an intense blow was now gently fondling her breasts, while the other remained firmly lodged in her hair. When Sheva finally registered what her captor was doing, she stilled, shock causing her to freeze.

Chris had finally found his feet and made to rise, hatred causing his features to contort viciously. A snap from Wesker's gloved fingers and Jill was advancing on him, still no sign of recognition in her eyes. Jill leapt at him, focusing on his legs in an effort to down him once more. He put up a solid fight, in his desperation actually fighting with his full strength against his former partner, but it was to no avail. It was only a few moments before he was back on the ground with a knife pressed firmly to his throat, a clear warning silently telling him not to try and move again.

"Now then, where was I?" Wesker hummed, resuming his assault on Sheva's body. He slowly slipped beneath the purple top, his gloved hands coming in to direct contact with her skin. She shuddered at the sensation, her breaths coming faster and faster as her panic grew. Wesker leaned forward and brought his lips to her neck, and inhaled deeply. His tongue slowly slid against her skin, marking a long stripe down the length of it. When he reached her necklace, his teeth clamped down and pulled. The beads went flying as the jewelry snapped from the pressure. A cry escaped her lips and Wesker's cruel smirk grew, the sound egging him on. He pushed Sheva to her knees in order to further her feelings of powerlessness and degradation.

Removing his hand from her shirt, he began to wind it slowly down her torso. With deft skill he began to unlatch her belt, causing the woman to begin to struggle once again, the fear that had frozen her before now spurring her to resist. Chris began to shout obscenities at Wesker, watching as tears began to trickle down Sheva's face. The older man ignored his shouts and unzipped Sheva's pants, forcing his hand past the waistline despite her desperate twisting.

It was obvious when Wesker actually inserted his fingers inside of Sheva. A sob escaped her mouth and she closed her eyes, her lips trembling with barely suppressed distress. "Jill, my pet, come here," Wesker purred. "And if you move, Redfield, I'll snap her neck," he added, his voice hard as steel.

Jill rose, sheathing her knife as she approached. "Touch her, pet," Wesker ordered, his voice soft and sensual. Still revealing no emotion, Jill reached out and began to caress Sheva's shoulders. "Lower." Jill's hands cupped Sheva's breasts, kneading them softly. A sudden pinch through the fabric of her shirt caused Sheva to gasp in surprise, and Wesker chuckled, amused with the situation.

"Kiss her."

Chris watched with growing horror as Jill continued to fondle his partner with one hand while using the other to firmly grasp Sheva's face. "Jill, stop! This isn't you!" he shouted, but did not dare rise from the floor. The blonde woman began to softly kiss the captive, her lips moving gently over Sheva's quivering mouth. It wasn't long before the kiss turned rough and Jill forced her tongue into her victim's mouth. Sheva moaned from the contact, but Chris knew it was not in pleasure. He saw Wesker's hand resume moving inside her pants and Sheva sobbed around Jill's tongue once more.

"Do you like what you see, Chris?" Wesker murmured in between light nips that he littered on Sheva's neck and shoulder, all the while continuing to move his fingers inside her. A wordless snarl sprang to Chris' face. Under normal circumstances, Chris could admit that he found two women together erotic. But this was sick. Sheva was being unwillingly assaulted, and Chris found no enjoyment in it whatsoever. And Jill… Well, Jill wasn't really Jill. It made no difference to Wesker, apparently. "Two of your partners and your captain together? You must feel so left out." Wesker's words were mocking and cruel and his smirk accentuated his taunts.

"You're not my captain," Chris spat, unwilling to let Wesker's claims go unchallenged.

The blond gave a quiet "Tsk tsk" at his words before he let go of Sheva's hair, grabbed Jill's ponytail, and pulled her in for a rough kiss. Fresh hatred filled his heart at the sight of Wesker and Jill kissing so fiercely. Wesker's blood red gaze bored into Chris' brown eyes and he audibly growled at the older man. "Stop," Chris snarled.

Their contact continued for a full minute before the two blonds parted, both panting from their passionate kiss. "Enough playing, my pet." Wesker shifted Sheva's body so that she was leaning against his broad chest, her legs angled out for easier access. Jill mechanically began to pull at Sheva's pant legs, ignoring the other woman's desperate kicks.

"STOP!" Chris' chest heaved with the deep breaths he was taking, fury coursing through his body as he resisted the urge to rise and attack the man opposite him. A perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched at Chris, though the man made no move to stop what he was doing to Sheva. Chris took a deep breath, swallowing his remaining pride. "Wesker, please. Please stop. I'll….cooperate."

The black suited man smiled a predatory smile, dangerous delight evident on his face. In one swift jerk he had pulled out of Sheva and pushed her forward onto the floor. She grunted and tried to turn to face her assailants, but with a gentle snap of Wesker's fingers, Jill moved forward. Before Sheva could properly resist, Jill had forced her hands behind her back and was zip tying the captive's hands and feet. From somewhere in her jumpsuit Jill produced a rag that she stuffed into Sheva's unwilling mouth.

When she was finished, the blonde woman began to drag Sheva towards the door, clearly aiming on removing her from the room. Chris couldn't tell if he wanted that or not. On the one hand, if Wesker was serious about… well, he couldn't even think the words in his own mind about what the man wanted… then he didn't want Sheva there to witness it. But he didn't want her out of his sight either. Before he could voice his concerns, Wesker called out, "Now pet, Chris got to watch us play with Ms. Alomar. It's only fair she get to stay." With that, Jill dragged the trussed up Sheva to the opposite wall, leaning her against it before standing next to her, face still impassive.

Chris stared into Sheva's panicked eyes, giving her a small smile and a nod to encourage her to hang in there. He knew he had to be brave for her… And brave for himself. Turning his head to face Wesker, Chris lost his smile and instead glared, making sure his feelings towards the older man were apparent on his face. "Hurry up and get this over with," he snarled, curling his lip in a deep scowl.

"Oh Chris, so eager?" Wesker teased, approaching slowly. With each step Chris felt his heart begin to beat faster, but he strove not to show his rising fear. Finally reaching the restrained captive, Wesker knelt down and leaned forward, staring deeply into Chris' glowering eyes. Chris had to force himself not to move away this time, focusing instead on controlling his breathing. "What is it about you that so captures my attention? A god should not feel this way about a mere human." Wesker seemed furious with himself, his trademark smirk turning into a tight frown. His hand flashed forward to grip the nape of Chris' neck, pulling him closer to stare even deeper.

And then Wesker's mouth was on his, a furious meeting of teeth and tongue. His former captain's tongue lashed against his, twisting about in an intricate dance. Chris had never kissed another man before, had never had to battle for dominance. He had always been the aggressor, the one to set the pace. Wesker was brutal in his kiss, thorough in his exploration of the younger man's mouth.

And for a few seconds, Chris lay passively, wanting to get this over with. He didn't want Wesker to have the satisfaction of him returning any sort of physical contact. And he wasn't allowed to fight back, or Sheva would be hurt again. So instead, Chris lay limp, allowing Wesker to plunder his mouth with no resistance. He was disgusted with the feel of the other man's mouth on his, ashamed that he had let this happen.

But then his anger at the entire situation began to creep back into his mind. He couldn't believe that he'd been captured, that Sheva had been assaulted, that Wesker was touching him like this. Needing an outlet for his frustration, Chris realized he would have to react without putting Sheva in danger. He knew that Wesker would probably like his participation, but he'd be damned if he sat by and became his enemy's bitch so easily. Might as well join in and show him who was boss.

Using his bound hands to push up and give him some momentum, he suddenly met Wesker's passionate kiss head on, lashing his tongue against the other man's tongue with force. The grunt of surprise from Wesker made Chris bolder and he bit at the blond's lower lip, hoping to draw blood. Wesker pulled Chris closer, a low growl sounding in his throat as he pushed back, trying to regain the advantage he'd had at the beginning of the kiss.

They battled like that for a few minutes, tongues dueling as their bodies had done earlier that evening. Exhausted from his earlier beating, and finding that even Wesker's tongue seemed to have superhuman strength, it wasn't long before Wesker had the lead again, his tongue dominating Chris. He felt gloved hands pushing at his shoulders, forcing him to lie uncomfortably on top of his bound hands. Wesker broke the kiss, and despite himself, Chris was pleased to note that there was a slight flush to the man's cheeks.

Making a show of removing his gloves, Wesker stared down at his adversary with a soft smirk, flexing his pale fingers before moving towards Chris again. The brunette eyed the gloves as they were dropped to the cell floor and he frowned, his anger bubbling when he remembered where those gloves had been moments before. He didn't have long to focus on that, however, for Wesker's bare hands were suddenly under his shirt and shamelessly exploring his toned stomach. Chris gasped at the other man's touch, uncomfortable with the sensation. Wesker's hands were firm, yet his skin was soft, and completely different from any woman that had touched him before. Uneasiness and fear began to battle with the anger, his emotions not equipped to handle this strange scenario.

Chris barely registered that Wesker had pulled a knife from somewhere and was delicately cutting through his shirt, revealing his tanned and sculpted torso. A sliver of panic was beginning to nestle firmly in his mind. He hadn't really believed Wesker wanted him sexually. The man had never given any such indication before. Yet here he was, being stripped and kissed by the madman, and it appeared he had no intention of stopping. He looked up into Wesker's face, waiting for what was to come next, trying not to shy away from the other man's touch for fear of what would be done to Sheva in retaliation.

Pale hands groped at his chest, slender fingers mapping out the contours of his muscles. Wesker exhaled deeply as he continued to touch, his gaze focused on the bronzed chest and stomach. Just as Chris was beginning to relax and grudgingly accept the gentle touch of his enemy, Wesker's nimble fingers cruelly pinched his right nipple. The BSAA agent gasped in surprise at the jolt of pain, and he made to rise, his reaction instinctual. Wesker held him in place while he moved to the other nipple, a smug grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. This pinch was harder, and Chris bucked in shock. The older man chuckled and moved his head down, now taking one of the abused nipples in his mouth, lapping at the puckered flesh gently. Chris remained tense despite the soft licks, wary of Wesker's teeth.

But Wesker seemed impatient, sucking on his nipples for a few more seconds before moving on. Just as Wesker's skilled hands had undone Sheva's belt with ease minutes ago, now too Chris found his own belt being unbuckled. Despite himself and his vow to remain strong, Chris began to tremble, the sliver of panic growing exponentially. Wesker was really going to do it. He was going to… Oh God, he couldn't even think the words.

The blond seemed to be thoroughly enjoying Chris' rising panic. He slowly pulled at his pants and boxers, making sure to catch Chris' gaze as he did. A lazy smirk was on the older man's face, but Chris could tell by Wesker's quick breaths that he was just as affected by the exchange. Except he was actually enjoying this, Chris thought. He glared at Wesker, refusing to look away despite his growing embarrassment as his body was exposed.

It was Wesker that broke eye contact first, yet Chris didn't feel like much of a winner when he realized where Wesker had decided to stare instead. The other man gazed silently at the rest of Chris and the younger man felt his cheeks grow hot with shame. He wasn't small by any means, and generally when a woman stared at his package he found the situation enticing. But Wesker was not a beautiful woman, and the look on his face gave nothing away. Chris grew increasingly self-conscious as the seconds ticked by. Perhaps Wesker had changed his mind, Chris thought with sudden hope.

"Magnificent, Chris," Wesker finally breathed, effectively dashing his hope that the madman had decided to abandon his plan.

As Wesker's hand descended towards his flaccid cock, Chris felt his bravery begin to trickle away. He struggled between his urge to protect Sheva and his need to try and escape. In the end, Chris forced himself to remain where he was, a quick look at Sheva's tear stained face reminding him why he was sacrificing himself for her. Wesker's keen eyes missed none of the exchange, and he chuckled, earning another dark glare from his captive.

Deft hands firmly gripped his shoulders and spun him onto his stomach. Chris felt himself panting, his breaths puffing out quickly in panic. It had been moving so slow. Where was this rush coming from? But Wesker did nothing except fiddle with the cuffs that restrained him. The black clad man suddenly rose from his crouch, and Chris watched over his shoulder, noting Wesker's smirk growing as he moved away. "I've changed my mind, Chris." Eyes squinting in confusion, Chris suddenly realized that the cuffs had fallen away, freeing his hands. "You're incessant, yet ultimately futile, fight against me is one of the reasons I find myself so drawn to you." Chris rolled over, rubbing at his freed wrists. "So fight me, Chris. And have no fear for your partner."

Rising slowly, still rubbing his chaffed wrists, Chris' lips set in a firm line. It was obvious that he couldn't defeat Wesker. He had no weapons, was naked, and his body was already weakened. It really would be futile, as his captor had just said. But if anything, Wesker knew how Chris worked. If the opportunity presented itself, he was going to resist. And now that no harm would come to Sheva… Chris raised his fists in a defensive gesture, his body shifting into a fighting stance. If Wesker wanted a fight, he was going to get it.

Waiting for the blond to make the first move, Chris remained frozen, all of his attention on the other man. Without any warning Wesker moved forward, lunging at his captive. Chris sidestepped the first punch that was thrown and jabbed as he dodged, hitting Wesker's upper arm. It was a weak hit, but Chris felt satisfaction in making a connection. Quickly pivoting, Wesker turned to give Chris an uppercut. Unlike the prior punch, this blow was vicious, and Chris felt his teeth rattling from it. He stumbled from the force of the hit, but remained upright. Wiping at blood that escaped his mouth and spitting out the rest, Chris grit his teeth and lashed out with his foot. Again, he connected with Wesker's body, but it was as if he was gently poking the other man instead of hitting him with all his strength. He rolled to avoid a roundhouse kick from Wesker, ignoring the flare of pain his ribs gave him. Rising quickly, Chris punched Wesker in the stomach. "Yes," his adversary hissed, though Chris was certain it wasn't from pain. It was then that Chris noticed the bulge in Wesker's pants. Growing angrier, Chris punched again before Wesker returned a blow, causing Chris to fall onto his back to the floor.

Wesker advanced on him once more, this time with slow, deliberate steps instead of a quick attack. It gave the brunette time to make it to his feet once more, his fists raised to meet the other man head on. It was only a matter of time before he lost, so Chris decided to go on the offensive. They began fighting anew, Chris giving it all that he had. He lashed out with his fists, solidly connecting with Wesker's body. But for all Chris dished out, he received more than double in return. Wesker's hands were a blur, hitting him with quick and efficient precision. It wasn't long before Chris realized that his enemy was toying with him. Though the assault from Wesker certainly hurt, he could tell that had the other man been using his full strength, the fight would have been over in a matter of seconds.

With speed that his human eyes could not follow, Wesker suddenly latched on to Chris' wrist and pulled him in close, their faces mere centimeters away. Smirking lips were smashed against his and a tongue wriggled at his sealed lips, trying to force its way inside. Indignant rage welled up in him and Chris opened his mouth to bite, his teeth clamping down on Wesker's wet appendage. It was the first time that Chris had seen the blond in pain that night. With an audible grunt of discomfort, Wesker pushed Chris away with a violent shove. Blood dribbled down the pale man's chin and Chris smirked, proud that he had hurt his enemy.

But Chris' small victory didn't last long. Moving just as quickly as before, Wesker was suddenly upon him once more. A pale hand wrapped around his throat and shoved him against the wall, forcing Chris up on his tiptoes. Gasping from the pain that radiated from numerous points on his body, as well as from the restriction to his airway, Chris weakly struggled to make his enemy let go. A loud laugh suddenly echoed throughout the room and Chris' eyes shifted to gaze at the man that held him aloft. Wesker was chuckling, wiping at his mouth with his free hand. He stared at the blood for a few moments before shaking his head in amusement. Chris kicked out at him, hoping to catch Wesker off guard, but as usual, it was to no avail. Catching Chris' foot with his free hand, Wesker looked up at the dangling captive.

"You see, even now you fight me. Even when I have you pinned to the wall like an insect. Still, you fight." Wesker's hand flexed around Chris' throat and he gasped, not able to breathe at all. He was distantly aware that Wesker was lowering him, the cell wall cruelly scraping his naked back and shoulders, though the grip to his airway did not let up. His vision began to swim when he felt those awful lips on his again, the blood dripping from the other mouth making the connection slippery.

He was just about gone, consciousness rapidly slipping away, when his captor finally let go, allowing him to breathe again. Though he had let go of his throat, Chris was still held against the wall by Wesker's body, a solid barrier that would not allow him to move. As he sucked in precious oxygen, he felt Wesker running his lips over his jaw and neck, not kissing but some sort of intimate caress. It made his skin crawl, and he shivered, dread filling him.

A hand was running along his body, never staying in one area for too long. It dipped dangerously low on his navel and Chris sucked in a breath, eyes darting to look down as the hand continued to move south. He wriggled weakly, a low whine beginning to sound in the back of his throat. Wesker grabbed at Chris' hands and forced them up and over his head, his own pale hand holding them hostage in a secure grip. His free hand continued to move despite Chris' increased struggling.

"S-stop," Chris ground out when Wesker was a centimeter away from his dick. That manicured eyebrow was arching in amusement again and then his hand was wrapped around the soft organ, squeezing firmly. Eyes blown wide in shock, Chris gaped at his former captain. He didn't resist when Wesker leaned forward to capture his lips in another kiss. Blood no longer seeped from the blond's mouth, and dimly Chris realized that Wesker's regenerative abilities had taken care of the bite wound on his tongue.

It went on like that for what felt like hours, Wesker deeply kissing him and teasing his cock. But when Chris didn't begin to respond to the stimulation, he could tell that the blond was frustrated. With a growl, Wesker grabbed his leg and threw it up around his hip. Awkwardly standing on one leg, Chris looked into his captor's eyes with confusion. A finger was held up in front of his face with the command, "Suck it."

Blinking slowly, Chris felt his eyebrows knitting together as he scowled. "Hell no."

"Suit yourself, Chris. I was only trying to help," Wesker answered, his tone dripping with mocking amusement. And then the dry digit was circling his asshole, teasing at what was about to come. Chris yelped and tried to move his leg down so that he wasn't so exposed, but Wesker leaned more firmly against him, trapping his leg up. The finger was now pushing gently against the resisting ring of muscle and Chris began to truly struggle, throwing his whole body forward in his desperation. But Wesker was an unmoving wall and he merely laughed at the agent's panic.

"Wesker, stop!" Chris panted, though he forced himself not to beg. No matter what, he would never beg, he told himself.

"You had your chance to make this easier, Chris," Wesker purred, pushing his finger more firmly inside his victim.

Already to the knuckle, Chris tensed around the digit, trying any way to stop its movement. It didn't necessarily hurt, but the pressure was foreign and uncomfortable. And he knew there was more to come. With a huff, Wesker pushed forward, pushing his finger all the way inside of the brunette. Staying still, he allowed Chris' frantic breathing to slow before he began to move inside of him. He pushed in and out of the dry channel, curling his finger and wiggling it about slowly. The entire time Chris tensed his body and stared in horror at Wesker, though his defiant glare was always present in his eyes.

After a while Wesker withdrew his finger and Chris sighed with relief, foolishly believing his tormenter may be done with him. The finger that had been inside him and the finger next to it were raised to his lips and Wesker chuckled before demanding, "Suck them."

"What?" Chris gasped, disbelief clearly etched on his face. "Fuck no!"

Wesker shrugged and returned to Chris' hole, circling it gently before beginning to push once more, this time with two digits. Chris began to growl and threaten the blond man, straining against Wesker's hold despite knowing he could not break it. He continued to rant through the pain, trying to distract himself from the pressure coming from Wesker's invading fingers. His breaths came in sharp gasps and his heart beat wildly, trying to force its way out of his chest. The dryness made this assault hurt more this time around, the pressure of two fingers causing him more pain. The lone digit hadn't caused much discomfort, and Chris could hardly wrap his head around the idea of two measly fingers causing this much pain. Burning filled him and yet Wesker continued pushing, ignoring Chris' protests.

Once the two fingers were pushed inside to their full length, Wesker began to move them around inside, curling them again. It was as if he was looking for something inside, and Chris tried to remember everything he had learned about sex. He knew men engaged in this sort of thing and enjoyed it, but how? This did not feel good at all. He grit his teeth against a sharp stab of pain and closed his eyes, trying to block out the sensations.

And then he felt it and remembered how men could have pleasurable sex. A sudden jolt of pleasure, a lightning bolt of sensation that ran straight to his cock. His eyes snapped back open in shock and his mouth fell open, a sharp gasp escaping. When he looked at Wesker, the other man looked extremely pleased with himself. Fingers curled again and the explosion of pleasure was back, blinding Chris with the force of it. It wasn't long before Chris felt himself responding, though he tried every trick in the book to quell his growing arousal. Wesker's fingers found the spot relentlessly, pressing against it in quick succession. Feeling his cock begin to swell, Chris buried his face into his arm, his cheeks heating with humiliation.

"There we are," the blond murmured, gazing with satisfaction at Chris' engorged cock. He removed his two fingers before raising his hand to the trapped man's face, this time with three fingers extended towards him. "Suck them."

Chris shook with pain, arousal, and the desire to fight Wesker even now. But he didn't think he could take it again without anything to ease the pressure. Three fingers would surely tear him to pieces. Wesker wiggled his fingers at him, expecting some sort of reaction. Reluctantly opening his mouth, Chris allowed his captor to push his three fingers into his waiting mouth. He sucked gently, trying to ignore the taste and the idea of where two of the digits had been. He also ignored Wesker's sigh of pleasure, instead glaring at the ceiling.

When the fingers were removed from his mouth, Chris let out a quiet mutter of, "Fuck you." Wesker smirked at that, but made no comment as he pushed his fingers against his hole again. The spit certainly helped, but the pressure was still there. The stretch was still painful too, and the brunette tried to regulate his breathing through the pain. He bit his lip, trying not to let any of his feelings show, hoping to take away any enjoyment Wesker may be getting from the exchange. But he couldn't hide his pleasure when Wesker found that spot deep inside of him again. Three fingers now poking at the spot, Chris audibly gasped, his erection swelling further.

Just as Chris was beginning to grudgingly accept the pleasure, Wesker pulled out of him and let go of his hands, allowing him to fall heavily to the floor. Chris didn't immediately rise, too exhausted to fight as valiantly as he had before. He watched as Wesker began to strip, forcing himself to look away as his former captain began to unbutton his own pants. He didn't want to see the other man's cock, didn't want to have it anywhere near him. If he pretended it wasn't there, maybe…

But the childish idea was unrealistic, and Chris felt Wesker's hands a moment later. One gripped his erection, pumping with the right amount of pressure, causing Chris to arch his back in surprise pleasure. The other hand grabbed at his brown hair, pulling him closer. Their mouths met once more, and Chris still did not fight, allowing the blond to devour him. Perhaps his original idea of laying limply would cause Wesker to lose interest.

When they parted, Wesker was breathing heavily, but he was scowling. "That's not going to work, Chris. Even when you don't physically fight me…" As he spoke, his hand stroked Chris' cock, squeezing tightly to accentuate his words. At that, Chris growled and gripped Wesker's shoulders tightly, his nails leaving small crescent marks in the pale skin. "Even then, you fight me. Your spirit. I can feel it."

It was Wesker's usual mumbo jumbo, but he obviously believed it, for his red eyes shone brightly, glittering with passion and arousal. And then he was kissing Chris again, roughly grabbing the other man and bringing their naked bodies closer together. The roughness ignited a fire inside Chris and he returned the passionate kiss again despite himself, biting and nipping at Wesker with matching ferocity. Their writhing bodies slid against one another, sweet friction a blessing to Chris' aching cock. When Wesker's own hard cock rocked against his own with a thrust of hips from the blond, Chris felt himself shy away despite himself.

They broke apart with animalistic growls, staring at each other with mixed emotion. Wesker spat into his hand and lowered it to grip his own cock, impatience obvious in his movements. Chris swallowed hard, knowing what was about to come. It rankled that he couldn't stop it, that his usual strength was nothing compared to Wesker's. He glanced down at Wesker's hand and almost wished he hadn't. His captor's cock was large, and only seemed bigger when Chris thought about where the other man planned to put it.

"I've thought about this for a long time, Chris," Wesker sighed, focusing once more on his captive when his cock was slick with his own spit. He rubbed gently against the younger man, running his cock along the cleft of Chris' ass. The BSAA agent tried to wiggle away from the teasing cock, but Wesker pinned him down with one of his hands, his red eyes flashing in warning.

Grasping Chris' leg with his other hand, Wesker placed it up on his shoulder, once again allowing the older man easier access to one of his most private places. He trembled with panic but did not fight it, knowing Wesker would make him regret it at this stage. Wesker's cock was now pushing against his entrance and Chris clenched his fists, closed his eyes, and grit his teeth. His nails dug into his skin and he tried to focus on that small pain instead of the cock that was slowly pushing inside of him.

It surprised him that Wesker was taking it so slow, that he wasn't being cruel. The other man pushed unhurriedly, giving him a few seconds to adjust every time he moved forward further. It still hurt despite the relatively gentle treatment, but Chris couldn't help but be grateful for the small mercy he was being given. Trying to even out his breathing, Chris forced his body to relax, knowing he would hurt himself more if he resisted.

"Oh Chris, you're so tight," Wesker sighed when he had finally seated himself fully inside Chris. The other man lay still on top of him and Chris tried to relax further, though the pressure inside of him did not seem to lessen no matter how much he tried to assure himself it was okay. "You've never been with anyone this way, have you?" Wesker asked, as if he had only just now realized it. A grin lit up his enemy's face and he looked down at Chris, who had slowly reopened his eyes at the question. "Not even with that pretty boy, Kennedy?" the blond teased, smirking down at the younger man.

"Leon?" Chris asked stupidly, picturing the other man in his mind. At his question Wesker withdrew slightly, causing Chris to hiss at the sensation.

"Wouldn't he be a treat," Wesker taunted, swiveling his hips as he spoke, eliciting another hiss from Chris, though it wasn't apparent if it was from the new sensation or anger at Wesker's words.

Before Chris could even think of a comeback, Wesker had begun to move, slowly pumping in and out of the younger man. It hurt again and Chris reached up, clamping down on Wesker's shoulders in order to ground himself. The pain was unbearable, a burning and tearing that flared throughout his entire body. Nerve endings screaming, Chris could barely suppress whines of pain that bubbled in his throat.

He thought that it was going to be like this the entire time and he didn't know if he could do it, didn't know if he could take the pain. It was so unlike anything he had experienced before. He could take a beating from Wesker, had been bitten by BOWs, and had been shot on several occasions. But this hurt was inside and stemmed from his core, a hurt that also damaged his pride. His erection had deflated because of the pain, only semi-hard now. A small mercy, at least. Chris figured he'd rather not enjoy this than give Wesker the satisfaction of making him feel good.

But just as Wesker anticipated his driving need to fight, he seemed to know what Chris was thinking and feeling in this instant too. He moved to encircle Chris' cock, squeezing tightly before pumping, bringing it steadily back to life. The pleasure combated with the pain, and Chris found himself on a cliff, wavering between giving in to the pleasure or falling prey to the pain. He clung desperately to Wesker, small noises of discomfort escaping despite himself. And then Wesker hit that spot inside of him with a quick thrust and Chris moaned despite himself, clenching even harder to Wesker's shoulders.

With a satisfied grunt, Wesker focused on that spot inside Chris, angling his thrusts in order to stroke the bud that gave him such intense pleasure. He wanted to fight it, but he was just so tired of being hurt. Though he loathed himself for it, Chris let himself give in to the pleasure that Wesker was giving him. He focused on the blooming gratification that erupted from inside him as well as the sweet pressure from the hand that satisfyingly clenched his cock. The pain was never truly gone, but it subsided considerably when Chris let go, and he was able to lose himself in the moment.

They moved together in an effort to find their own release, their bodies slick with the sweat from the exertion of their coupling. Gasps of breath coupled with grunts and moans filled the small space, echoing lowly on the walls. Chris threw his head back in ecstasy, wrapping his legs around Wesker in an effort to allow the man deeper inside him, hoping the other man's cock would press more firmly on the spot that lit fireworks in his body. The blond groaned at that, and with a pleased growl began to move faster, moving at a punishing pace.

If Chris hadn't decided to allow himself to bask in the pleasure, the piston-like whips of Wesker's hips would have reduced him to a quivering mess of pain, but as it was, the pressure and pace only increased his pleasure. Wesker leaned down to capture Chris' lips, thrusting his tongue into the younger man's mouth in time with the thrusts of his hips. Chris responded, lashing out with his own tongue, his only way to show Wesker that he wasn't broken, that he would fight when he regained his strength. It spurred the blond on, his movements becoming frantic as he neared his release.

Wesker never forgot to pump Chris' cock, even when he let out a strangled moan and came deep inside of him. Throughout his orgasm he jerked Chris off until he too hit his orgasm, spurts of his come landing on his and Wesker's chests. They lay together panting, Wesker lying completely on top of Chris, their bodies steadily cooling. Chris lay dazed, not truly aware of himself until Wesker stirred and gingerly pulled out of him with a wet pop that sounded horrendously obscene in the now quiet room.

The blond man was dressing quickly, his gaze nowhere near where Chris lay on the ground. This was it. In mere moments he would be dead. That had been the last lay of his life. Chris could feel an insane giggle threatening to burst forth at the thought, but then Wesker turned and all of his sudden amusement vanished.

Wesker's eyes were blazing with fury and Chris couldn't help but shy away. He advanced on the naked man before Chris could scrabble backwards, gripping Chris yet again by the throat. "This is getting fucking old," Chris rasped, pulling at the fingers despite the futility of it.

"My thoughts exactly," Wesker growled, before letting him go a moment later. Chris blinked in amazement, looking up at his glowering adversary. "I had thought that once I had you this connection would be gone. I have sated my appetite. So why…" Wesker growled again and began to pace, running his hands through his slicked hair, messing up the perfect strands.

As Wesker paced, Chris tried to make sense of his words. What fucking connection? As if they were long lost lovers or something. Seriously, what a drama queen. The BSAA agent slowly rose to his feet, using the wall to balance on his shaky legs. If he was going to die, might as well do so standing.

He glanced over at Sheva as Wesker continued to pace. He was shamed to look her in the eye but also wanted to make sure she was still alright. His partner looked shaken and had a flush to her face, but she met his gaze with a sympathetic nod of her head. He smiled weakly and nodded back before returning his attention to Wesker. May as well meet his end head on. "Hey, can we hurry this brooding up?" he called out, glaring at the other man.

Wesker stopped pacing and stared openly at him, a strange expression on his face. He glanced over at Jill and Sheva then back at Chris, obviously at war with himself over some decision he was mulling over in his mind. "Chris, only a handful of humans truly matter. Only those fit for survival will be allowed to carry their genes into a new age."

"I've heard it all before, Wesker. You can skip this part."

A smirk began to erase the frown that marred the blond's face, and Chris felt a nagging worry begin to form in his mind at the look. "Even in the face of your demise, so brave, my Chris."

Chris sputtered with outrage before shouting, "I am not yours!"

"You're adorable."

A snarl of rage echoed throughout the room and Chris found himself advancing on Wesker, ignoring the come that slid disgustingly down his legs. Quick as ever, Wesker had caught his wrists and was staring at him, ignoring the curses Chris roared his way.

Still staring at Chris, Wesker snapped his fingers. Jill had grabbed a hold of Sheva's hair and began to drag her towards the open door, Sheva's muffled cries sounding behind the rag that was still lodged in her mouth. Chris began to struggle, more worried about where Sheva was being taken rather than for his own safety, but he needn't have worried. Wesker gave him a brief kiss before easily throwing him up on to his shoulder, hauling the younger man towards the door, ignoring Chris' struggles.

"I think you have what it takes to enter my new world. I want you by my side, Chris. I'll even let you keep your precious friends."

XXX

 **Notes:**

Yes, I shamelessly stole Wesker's "Only a handful of humans truly matter. Only those fit for survival will be allowed to carry their genes into a new age" lines from the game. Thought it worked here and tied in nicely.

Not sure how the ending works for an ending, but there you have it. One shot, or continue? Even I don't know!

Thank you again for reading! Hope you liked it. Don't forget to give me feedback or helpful comments! (:


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